


Acknowledging Privilege

by TopHat



Category: Parahumans Series - Wildbow
Genre: But it's the right thing, Confessions, F/M, It's not a good thing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-20
Updated: 2020-03-20
Packaged: 2021-02-28 23:55:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 777
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23235814
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TopHat/pseuds/TopHat
Summary: DeanLives!AU, and he talks to Blobtoria about being a Cauldron Cape.
Relationships: Victoria Dallon | Glory Girl/Dean Stansfield | Gallant
Kudos: 22





	Acknowledging Privilege

“Hey Vicky,” Dean said quietly, settling down into the chair, clasping his hands together. “How are you doing?”  
  
Communicating with her was slow. The doctors had set up a text-to-speech synthesizer, one that used a shorthand and blinks to shortcut through a lot of spelling conventions, but it still took almost a minute per word. Dean stayed patient though, careful to mask his frustration. She was smart, smarter than he was, and seeing her stuck with this inefficient, inaccurate mode of communication felt like watching an eagle hopping along without its wings.  
  
“Fine. You?” she asked back, the words coming out in a garbled monotone, slightly feminine. Part of the routine, established months ago. Back then he waited longer, tried to stay patient as a nurse slowly flipped through letters, as Vicky tried to figure out what parts of her new body went where.  
  
Those first few weeks had been... rough.  
  
Dean took a deep breath, then let it out, shaking his head. “No. Not really.”  
  
“Cauldron.” The fact that he couldn’t read her had been part of the draw at first. A way of forcing himself to be more honest, to know that he couldn’t just cheat his way through conversations. Now it was a broken thread of communication, one which he shouldn’t have had but wanted anyway. If he could’ve switched it off, maybe allowed people to keep some secrets, then perhaps things would’ve been different. That, or if he had pushed harder, done more, forced people to talk things out.  
  
His grip tightened.  
  
“Cauldron,” he said quietly, dropping his gaze to his hands. It was still hard to look at her, less so than it had been at first. He forced himself to look back up, swallowing. “That’s what I came to talk about, actually.” He paused again, looking to the blank, emotionless face that she felt most comfortable making eye contact with. “I’d like to get your take on them.”  
  
He studiously kept his gaze focused away from the screen, kept his hands still, prayed that Victoria couldn’t see him sweating as she typed out her response.  
  
“Monsters.”  
  
Dean nodded, cold rising in his chest. “Yeah. They are.” When the pause extended, he took the cue to speak. “They’re purging the Protectorate, you know? Lots of investigating trigger events, making sure that people got their powers naturally. The Triumvirate’s gone. Rory too. Some departments have been completely gutted.”  
  
The silence stretched out.  
  
“Good.”  
  
He swallowed. “New Wave was built on transparency, right? Sunlight disinfects. Open and honest.”  
  
“Secrets never work. Always hurt eventually. Be honest, no problem.” There was a rustle as her form shifted. “Touch.”  
  
He nodded mechanically, reaching out and placing one hand in hers. She didn’t squeeze, couldn’t without pulping his hand, but she still liked contact. They stayed like that for a while, quiet.  
  
“Do you think they’re bad people? The ones who bought powers,” he asked.  
  
The hand he was clutching flexed, just enough to notice. “Case by case. Rory was nice. Legend. Maybe. Still wrong.”  
  
Dean nodded, second hand joining the first. “Ethical consumption, right? Drive a car, fund the oil baron, fund his private army, are you culpable, even if you didn’t know?”  
  
“Yes. Not bad, but wrong.”  
  
“Can I tell you something?” Dean blurted out, blinking furiously, eye focused on the ground. “It’s pretty heavy, but I think I need to say it.”  
  
This time the silence choked.  
  
The laces on his shoes needed replacing.  
  
“Yes.”  
  
Dean took a deep breath.  
  
“I bought my powers.”  
  
More silence stretched out.  
  
“The vial comes with a health boost,” he recited, voice monotone, dull. “No idea why. I had an autoimmune response issue. Really bad. So Dad bought a vial, promised some favors, and gave it to me after explaining that there was a tiny chance I would mutate or die. I said yes. A day later and I was up and walking around, then went to join the Wards.”  
  
He squeezed Victoria’s hand. “I’m going to tell Miss Militia. She’s the one in charge of the Protectorate ENE right now, but I wanted to—”  
  
“Go.”  
  
Dean swallowed his words and let go. Wordlessly, he stood up, turned around and walked to the door. He paused there, one hand on the frame, looking over his shoulder.  
  
Vicky had turned over in her bed, ‘face’ hidden. He waited for her to say something, anything. To tell him that he’d be welcome back, that she just needed space. To tell him to never come back, that she couldn’t look past this. To, in any way, elaborate on ‘go’.  
  
Dean waited until the pressure became too much, and then he left.


End file.
